January

The bedroom breathes and tastes the winter chill
Of silver grasses on hardened soil, raw
In the pallid moonlight glow, stark and still,
Where the soft silence speaks of you, that draw
Long shallow breaths, exhaling sweetened dew,
Falling on frosted windows cloudy white.
Sleeping in the afterglow bright and new,
Safe within your dreams on this moonlit night.

January, long lost to winters tears, yet
Still remembering better days as she,
Probes with her cold fingers, as if to pet,
The dark recesses of the house that flee
Before her icy touch, she senses you
Come back again, a child long lost returned,
To when the world was innocent and knew
Of only better days and nothing spurned.

Moths blundering against the ceiling light,
Flailing wildly, crashing down, as I stare
At the falling snow swirling bold and bright,
Catching starlight reflecting auburn hair.
I feel a strangeness here beside our bed,
Whispering soft as the downy feather.
Your billowing breathing a silken thread,
Binds me to you, as we sleep together.

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